From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 140

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 140**

The realization struck me with the force of a slap, sending shockwaves through my body. My stomach churned, a violent wave of nausea rising within me, fueled by an unsettling mixture of disbelief and disgust. Could it be true? Was she involved? Was Roman?

Ew.

The sharp, authoritative crack of Reginald’s cane against the polished wooden floor sliced through the heavy air, an instant silencer for the room. With his entrance, the atmosphere shifted dramatically, thickening with tension.

“I trust my invitation reached you in good order?” His piercing gaze fixed on me, unwavering and intense.

“Yes… sir,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

“And I expect to see you at Blackwood Manor, then?”

My mouth opened, then snapped shut again, the words trapped inside. What could I possibly say in this precarious moment? Agree without Roman’s prior knowledge? Or refuse and risk incurring the wrath of a man who commanded respect and fear in equal measure? The weight of that decision bore down on me, a heavy stone pressing against my chest until I could barely breathe.

If I acquiesced, Roman would undoubtedly erupt in fury. If I declined, I would be disrespecting a man whose gaze could crush my spirit.

“Is this hesitation a regular occurrence for you?” Reginald’s brows knitted together slightly, a hint of concern mingling with authority. “I fear it’s an issue that warrants some attention.”

I opened my lips once more, desperation flooding my mind. “I was just—”

“She will not be attending.”

All heads turned in unison.

Roman.

He stood at the doorway, a bag clutched tightly in one hand, his eyes seething with an intensity that radiated pure venom and unrestrained hatred directed at his father.

A wave of relief washed over me so suddenly that I nearly collapsed against the couch, my heart racing. “Roman…” I breathed, the name slipping from my lips like a prayer.

Reginald’s expression hardened, though he maintained an unnervingly calm demeanor. “Roman, I believe the young lady is capable of speaking for herself.”

He rose from his seat, Cassandra following suit, their movements eerily synchronized. Her eyes roamed over Roman’s physique, lingering far too long for my comfort, igniting a fierce desire within me to slap her across the face and reclaim my territory.

My pulse hammered in my ears, loud and frantic, as if it were trying to betray me.

If I lied, claiming I had no desire to attend, I would stand with Roman, yet risk offending the General. If I spoke the truth, expressing my curiosity about the infamous Blackwood Manor, I would be throwing Roman to his father’s wolves, betraying him in front of his greatest adversary.

No matter how I turned, someone would emerge from this confrontation hating me—someone powerful, someone dangerous. My lips parted, but the words failed to materialize. My heart raced, and my tongue felt heavy, as if weighed down by the gravity of the moment.

I glanced at Reginald. His gaze was unyielding, a silent challenge daring me to defy him.

Then I looked at Cassandra, who wore a faint smile, already relishing the anticipation of my downfall, delighting in the trap that had ensnared me.

Finally, I turned to Roman. His eyes blazed not with anger directed at me, but with desperation—no, a warning. He wasn’t merely asking me to refuse; he was pleading with me.

The walls felt as though they were closing in, the silence roaring in my ears louder than any sound I had ever known. I longed to speak, to make a choice, to assert my will.

But all I could think was this: whichever truth I uttered tonight… could very well lead to my destruction.